Guiding Hand
by Draknal
Summary: It was easy to forget that Mark was once inexperienced, a young man who knew nothing of the ways of war. It was the fate of Elibe to know nothing of how he came about his skills. They would not forget, for they never knew in the first place. From a uniquely different point of view. One-shot.


**Guiding Hand**

Draknal: Hey. Sorry, it's not an update for any of my other stories. This was an idea that's been floating around in my head for the past few hours. It hadn't come about until I started playing Radiant Dawn again. No, it doesn't have to do with Radiant Dawn; it was just triggered by it. I just felt I needed to get it out of my system.

This is a one shot. Random skips will occur. It will be apparent why when you read further into it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem or any properties in thereof, just my idea in terms of the plot.

* * *

It was strange, watching Mark work his way through his adventure. He had woken up on the plains of Sacae, no memories of himself or where he came from, only his name. I suppose we are alike in those regards.

He had found himself thrust into a conflict he wanted no part in. I found myself alongside him. Why? I didn't know.

"You'll be my master tactician, and I your peerless warrior!" Lyn had said. Mark had seemed uncertain. What did he know of the ways of war? Not much if the first incident was any indication. Bandits had decided to attack the small, isolated village he now resided in. He and Lyn were all that stood between the brigands and its destruction.

_x-X-x_

"The large one by the hut seems to be the leader. You will need to be careful around him."

The young tactician had seemed startled the first time I spoke to him. I found myself startled as well, because he had actually been able to hear me. I had tried speaking to others before but they always ignored me. Perhaps they couldn't hear me? Or maybe I just wasn't notable, unworthy of their notice.

I briefly explained the weapon triangle to the young man garbed in green.

"Lyn will be fine by herself. She has the advantage," I assured him.

In the end, they won. Specifically, Lyn had won. The village was saved and the bandits routed. The two returned to the young Lorca girl's hut for food and minor medical attention. I expected Mark to ignore me after that, to forget that I had even existed. He sought me out, not that it was hard to do. I followed him. Of my own volition? I don't know. I simply went where he went.

Sitting outside Lyn's hut, the brown-haired youth sat upon the ground and seemed to look around for something. Me perhaps?

"Are you there?" he asked, hesitancy in his quiet, reserved voice. He doubted that he had heard me in the first place I suppose. He now more than likely doubts his own sanity.

"Yes."

He jumped slightly and turned towards where I was. Could he see me?

"You helped us earlier." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes."

His brows scrunched together, perhaps in thought? He remained quiet for several moments before he broke the silence. "Why?"

It was my turn to be silent. Why did I help him? I didn't know him. Not him _or _the young woman, Lyn. I answered him honestly.

"I don't know."

His previously tensed shoulders seemed to sag slightly, though his brow remained furrowed. He was less anxious now it seemed.

"Who are you?"

Again I answered honestly. "I don't know."

"Then… _what _are you?" he inquired.

He received the same answer as before. The tactician followed up with several more questions pertaining to myself and my background. In truth, I had no answers for those either. History? Name? Gender? Likes and dislikes? I have no knowledge of them.

But I didn't care about that. For once, I wasn't alone. There was someone to speak with. Loneliness was a painful thing, perhaps one of the only things I had known since I first came into existence.

I asked him if he could see me, to which he answered with a nod. I followed by asking him to describe me. Curiosity was another thing I apparently possessed. He said I was but a small shimmer, a ghostly little cloud that someone could easily pass off as an illusion or a hallucination.

"What do I call you?" came his query. We had already determined I had no name.

I responded with neutrality. "What does it matter? If you ever need to talk with me then simply speak. I will know when I am being addressed."

He let out a small sigh. Irritation perhaps? I was doing the best I knew how.

Any further questions were halted when the girl of the Lorca tribe showed up looking for Mark.

"Here you are! It's getting late. Perhaps it would be best to turn in for the evening?" she asked, concern evident on her face. Had she heard his one way conversation? Doubtful. She was more than likely concerned for him after the events that had transpired that day.

Glancing once towards me he nodded and followed her into the hut and prepared for sleep. I did not need sleep. Perhaps I would "stand watch" for them. No. Rather I would remain in my spot and think, about the things we had spoken about.

_x-X-x_

"The Pegasus Rider is vulnerable to arrows. Archers should be a priority."

An imperceptible nod was the response to my suggestion.

"Wil, take down the archer going after Florina!" ordered the tactical mind of the small "Legion" they had come to be known as.

The young bowman responded quickly and with deadly efficiency, removing a threat from the young Ilian woman.

…

Another battle won, flawlessly. He had yet to take any casualties as a result of his orders. He was improving… steadily. Whenever a new or unfamiliar situation would arise I would give him my input. He absorbed the knowledge readily and without question. He _never _questioned my information. Why? How was he so sure that I was always _correct_ or _truthful? _

He didn't know. And neither did I. Where did _I _get the information from? How did I know it? Again I would ask myself, out loud. I received no answers for my troubles.

_x-X-x_

_-Isle of Valor-_

The cold, hard mathematics of war were something that Mark refused to believe in. He wouldn't be able to save everyone, not forever. Eventually people _would _die. I told him this, but he never acknowledged my words. He would just smile.

He had grown over time on his journey. Our journey perhaps? No. I wasn't a passenger, just an observer. That's all I had been before I had met Mark. That's all I was now. But to give him useful information that could affect the outcome of a battle, surely that wasn't something a simple _observer_ could do? I didn't know or care. I was simply… happy perhaps? Yes, happy, to be of assistance to the blooming tactician.

"She is going to die if you send her without support," I noted.

"She'll be fine," breathed Mark, his breaths labored as he ran behind the rest of his group, once more running headfirst into battle. He had ordered Lyn to remain behind and cover their advance into the foggy woods of Valor.

"Three on one is not favorable odds," I remarked. "Statistically she can take two, but three will be too much for her to handle. Do you not care about her well-being?"

He had fallen slightly behind the rest of the charging squad so that none of the others would hear him talking to himself. "Of course I care about her… but she'll be okay. She hasn't come all this way just to let herself down now."

I noticed the small gleam in his eye whenever he spoke of her. It was obvious she held a place in his heart. "The numbers do not lie. Why can you not accept this? What makes you think that the cold truth of these calculations will be wrong?"

He turned towards me, a grin tugging at his lips. "Because I have faith in her. She's beaten the odds before, she'll do so now."

In the end his faith had proven correctly. She had dispatched her foes with mild effort. Of course she had wounds to prove how much she had worked for her victory, but Lyn had retained her life.

How had my calculations been wrong? I haven't been incorrect before… was there something wrong with me?

_x-X-x_

"That is a Hero Crest. It possesses immense power that will strengthen certain allies of yours. Raven and Guy would benefit most from this one," I elaborated.

Mark picked up the concept quickly enough, learning to identify what each "trinket of power" (promotion item) was and who they were for. It was coming to the point when I wasn't sure if I could teach him much more. His knowledge of war and strategy had jumped by leaps and bounds over the course of his journey, a far cry from when he was with Lyn on the plains of Sacae.

It was strange. I felt no empathy for the others; No pity or remorse for their situations or losses. Even Eliwood, who had just lost his father, elicited no emotional reaction from me. But why not? I was as unfeeling for them as I was for myself.

But Mark wasn't like that. He was attached to his group, to _his _soldiers. He grieved for their losses, talked with who he could and tried to empathize with them. In turn they trusted and respected him.

He had gone from a young man with little knowledge of war and no friends, to a beloved tactical genius. If I was capable of it, I enjoyed his companionship. He loved to talk, and I was content to listen. More than that, he loved to learn, and I was more than willing to teach him.

_x-X-x_

"I'm grateful that you taught me about the magic triangle so long ago now," commented Mark before he assigned an appropriate counter to the shaman that was now attacking his crew with elder magic.

"I knew it was something you would encounter in the future. It was my job to assist."

He ordered the young monk known as Lucius to counter from afar with a powerful Purge spell.

"Regardless, it's making things a lot easier to deal with since I know how to counter them properly." His eyes were roaming the battlefield. They always did that, even when he was speaking to others. It was another thing I had taught him. Be observant. Never miss details that could be important. He held this closely, and I was glad for it.

_x-X-x_

_-At the Shrine of Seals-_

I don't think Mark can see me anymore…

He can't hear me either. Maybe he is just ignoring me now, like everyone else has always done? Now that I have taught him all that I can, maybe he no longer desires my company? Am I just to be discarded now?

I've tried to speak with him, to warn him of things, but to no avail. Not a glance in my direction, or even an indication that he's heard me. I don't even recall him looking for me. Did he simply not question my absence?

Will he even remember that I existed? That I helped to guide him through this blood stained path and keep him afloat in his times of uncertainty?

I have gone back to my previous position as an observer it seems, unable to interact with anyone or _thing_. What time I had to speak with Mark was… enjoyable maybe? I don't know how to describe the feeling. It kept the loneliness at bay. But now it has returned, my only companion once more.

Will I fade away from existence as a whole? Answers not pertaining to combat seem to be one thing I am lacking in. Fading into nothing would be preferable to this. The silence and isolation is unpleasant.

If it is possible for me to have hopes and dreams… I hope that one day Mark will have need of me again, so that I may not be forgotten.

-Story End-

* * *

Draknal: Again, this was just something I needed to get out of my head. What exactly was the thing helping Mark? Who knows. What do you think it was?

Personally, I didn't think about it until after I finished typing this, but maybe it was the "Tutorial/Help Hints." After all, they stop appearing after a certain point in the story. Long before the Shrine of Seals I know, but really by that point in time there really isn't any new information to be thrown at us.

This was a hastily done story-ish thing, so if there's any bad grammar then please forgive me. I just had to get this down on paper (read type?) so it wouldn't bother me anymore.

Leave a review if you feel so inclined and let me know what you think. I'd appreciate it.


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